Broken Hearts
by Earl Allison
Summary: The Demon's Husband Pt. II - Takes place during "Hunter's Moon"


- Broken Hearts -

The Demon's Husband, Part II

By Earl T. Allison II

eallison@tiac.net

June, 1997

Summary: Mark finally finds his estranged wife, but their reunion may be 

short-lived, especially if the Hunters have anything to say about it. Demona 

has a chance for redemption, but will she take it, or be overwhelmed by her 

desire for vengeance?

Disclaimer: The Gargoyles and their supporting cast are the copyrighted 

properties of Disney, Buena Vista, and Nelvana, 1997. Mark Flyer is copyright 

of me, 1997. Any resemblance to any individual, living or dead, is purely 

coincidental.

Note: It would be extremely helpful to read Part I, Separation Anxiety, to 

fully understand everything in this story (that, and it's a shameless plug 

to read my other stuff!).

Special thanks to Wraith for his editing chores and helpful suggestions. Also 

a thanks to everyonein chat, especially Gabriel and Goddess, who encouraged me 

to continue with the stories. Hi all!

For a frame of reference, this story takes place prior to and during the "Hunter's 

Moon" trilogy. It also has a PG-13 rating for some violence.

It had been six weeks since Mark had met Goliath and his clan. Their 

initial encounter had been polite, but underscored with mutual suspicion and 

concern, until Xanatos had arranged some ... entertainment. In the resulting 

battle, Mark had "died" to save Angela, his step-daughter. While this action 

had earned the respect of the clan, it had been little more than a polite gesture 

to Mark. The sentiment behind his actions had been genuine, as he had no 

wish to see her killed, but the sacrifice meant less to him. After all, what threat 

did death hold for an immortal?

Other revelations had come to light that evening as well, many of them 

dealing with his estranged wife, Demona. Aside from being Angela's biological 

mother, she had continued her bloody crusade against humanity, and had also 

extended it to include her former clan. The most surprising secret uncovered 

that night had been explained by Mark's "benefactors", the Weird Sisters.

The three Fey women, one golden blonde, one platinum blonde, and 

one with raven locks, had told Mark and the gargoyles that he had been created 

with one purpose, to prevent Demona and MacBeth from killing each other. After 

well over nine-hundred years of life, he had been told that he was, in essence, a

buffer, something to prevent other, more valuable pieces from being damaged.

The statement had been a rude shock, and one that might well have 

destroyed him, had he not other things to keep him stable. The most basic one 

had not changed, he wanted Demona back. Despite all she had done, and 

regardless of her apparent indifference to him, Mark had never stopped loving 

her. He had spent centuries following her, and would continue to do so. The 

other had come up only recently, but was much more prevalent.

Angela was like another child to him, a second chance to do thing right. 

He and Demona had lost their son, and ultimately each other, some eight hundred 

and eighty-one years ago. He wasn't about to let the same thing happen to 

Angela. But there was something more, Angela loved to visit Mark to hear 

stories of her mother in happier times. In the past few weeks, he had shown 

her almost every item in his vault, explaining its significance and letting her 

examine it.

Angela wanted to know her mother badly, so much so that Mark felt 

sorry for her. The young gargoyle refused to believe the stories her father and 

the others told her of Demona's treachery, choosing to seek solace in the tales 

Mark would tell her. The immortal could certainly empathize with her. Mark also 

believed that Demona could be redeemed. Had he felt otherwise, there would be 

little point in living any longer. Demona was all he had.

Although Angela visited almost every night, most of the others had paid 

a visit in the past few weeks, so Mark didn't even turn around at the sound of a 

gargoyle landing on his terrace. He did react when he heard the voice.

"Hello ... beloved."

He turned quickly, old emotions surging through him. It was Demona! 

She had come back to him! He opened his arms lovingly as he greeted her. 

"Demona, my love!"

"Stay back!" she warned, her eyes glowing a hellish red. She had 

assumed an aggressive stance, wings flared out and talons ready to rend 

flesh.

Demona was puzzled, although she didn't let it show in her posture. 

Despite his loving appearance, and even despite his words to Goliath and the 

others, she had expected a more hostile response. After all, she had abandoned 

him centuries ago, and he had found companionship with so many other women 

since then. Was it possible the fool really did love her? But, did she still love 

him? The glow faded from her eyes, but her posture made it clear that she didn't

want to be touched.

"What - what is it?" Mark was hurt and confused. His sudden feeling 

of elation was quickly replaced with dread. Why would Demona be angry with 

me after all those years?"

"Demona, I love you. I always have, and I always will. I'd like to think 

you feel the same way, especially since you haven't attacked me yet."

"Fool, what would I gain by killing you? Death means so little to either of 

us anymore." Her voice wavered slightly with her last statement, as she reached an 

inner realization. She did still care for him, however slightly, and couldn't bring 

herself to hurt him, even if it would only be temporary.

Mark heard her voice falter, and hoped that it was a good sign. Demona 

had always been a proud woman, and might feel that she was crawling back to him 

if she gave in. He decided to give her a reason to stay, and to save face as well. 

"Demona, at least come inside so we can talk privately."

She nodded and relaxed, settling her wings about her like a cloak. Mark 

stood aside as she entered, letting her pass. When she was certain he could not see 

her face, a wicked smile played across it. Everything was progressing exactly as 

she had planned. She finally spoke, "It has been a long chase. Why have you 

returned to Manhattan?"

Both made their way into the living room area. Mark relaxed at one 

end of a large couch, while Demona paced in front of it, her tail lashing back 

and forth.

"I have been searching for you. I never stopped, but every time I got 

close, MacBeth would show up, and after he and I finished our ... discussions, 

you had vanished again. The fact that you were always two steps ahead of me 

didn't help matters, either. I was certain you were here when Xanatos bought 

the castle, but couldn't get back for over a year."

Demona's expression darkened as she sat on the other end of the couch, 

glowering at him. "If all you ever wanted was to find me, than why join with my 

enemies? And how dare you take up with that bitch, Maza!"

"Demona, they aren't your enemies, they are your clan! I offered to help 

them so I could protect them, keep them safe from what befell the rest of their 

clan centuries ago. As for Elisa, she meant a lot to me. Actually, she still does,

I never stopped caring about her, but we can't be together. I don't want to watch 

her grow old and die, as I have so many others. I felt so alone without you here 

with me. Surely you can appreciate that feeling more than anyone, can't you?"

"And I suppose all those other women over the centuries couldn't offer 

you solace?" she asked, her voice full of anger or jealousy, Mark wasn't sure 

which.

Mark winced at the accusation before responding. "Demona, none of 

them could ever replace you, not even Elisa. I never remarried. I couldn't. I 

always hoped that you would come back to me someday."

"No marriage was meant to last this long!" she replied angrily. "And 

what about your alliance with Goliath?"

"I told you, I offered to protect them. As long as I have the power to 

prevent it, I won't ever let another gargoyle die needlessly, not by Xanatos' hand, 

not from the damned Hunters, not from anyone! I won't let them die like our son."

The mention of their child made Demona flinch. Mark reached out 

and took her hand gently. She did not pull away.

"Demona, I'm sorry. If I could, I'd trade places with him in a minute, 

you know that."

"I know." She squeezed his hand gently, smiling up at him weakly. 

"Mark?"

"Yes, Demona?"

"I never blamed you for what happened."

"I should have been there to protect him. I failed you both!"

"No!" She stood up suddenly, eyes glowing again as she shrieked like 

a wildcat. "Damn you! I didn't leave because I blamed you! I left because I 

blamed myself, and because I needed to be alone. I always meant to come back ..." 

she trailed off. "I just couldn't face you. Your kind killed my child, and in that 

instant, I wanted to destroy humanity. By the time I stopped to think about what 

I was doing, over ten years had passed. I had done too much, killed too many 

humans." She shook her head sadly, the glow from her eyes fading, and continued, 

"I couldn't bear to let you see me, not like that."

"Demona," he said, gently putting his hands on her shoulders. "I would 

forgive anything for you. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. Please, 

just come home. Come back to me."

She laughed mirthlessly. "Just like that? Come home, Demona, and all 

is forgiven? What about MacBeth, or the gargoyles, or the rest of the humans? 

What of the blood on my talons?"

"Yes, just like that. We'll deal with MacBeth if we have to, and Goliath's 

clan bears me no malice. I'll speak to them on your behalf. As for humanity, to 

hell with the entire misbegotten race. We'll live our own lives. I'll go anywhere 

in the world, Demona, as long as we are together. I told you before, I love you. 

I don't care what you've done in the past, I ... need you. I feel so alone without 

you."

Her expression softened for a moment, but she turned away, looking 

out the glass door of the terrace. "I am not the same gargoyle you married. 

The centuries have changed me. I don't even think I could ever be that woman 

again, even for you. You are better off without me. Goliath and the others won't 

forgive me, they don't see the danger that Goliath's views represent."

"Goliath is only trying to bring about peace between humans and gargoyles, 

something we tried, remember?"

"Yes, and we failed! I will not lose my daughter to the same hatreds that 

claimed my son! I have been watching you, I know how much you care for Angela."

"Angela, I'd forgotten about her!" Mark rose quickly and shut the patio 

light.

"Why did you do that?" Demona asked curiously.

"Angela comes to visit almost every night, so we worked this out. If I 

leave the light on, it means that she can come in. If I shut the light, she knows 

that I am either not home, or with company. I don't want anything to interrupt 

us."

Demona nodded quietly. "You do care a great deal for her, don't you?"

"I love her like she was my own child, and she deserves to live in a 

world where she can be accepted."

"Did our son's death teach you nothing?" Demona was furious now, 

but had yet to give in to her temper. "Your kind will never accept us, and I 

will not go quietly into the night!"

"So you'll just give up? How many deaths will balance the scales, 

Demona? A hundred? A thousand? Didn't you learn *anything*? As long 

as there is life, there is hope. We are immortals. If anyone should be hopeful 

for a brighter future, it should be us. We will be alive to shape it. I'm just glad 

our son isn't here to see this."

Demona's eyes widened, not in anger, but in shock. "Wh-what do you 

mean?"

"I mean that I'm glad he isn't here to see us at each other's throats. 

You loved me once, you trusted me once. Can you truly tell me that you no 

longer feel anything for me, after almost nine-hundred years apart?"

"HOW DARE YOU!" she screamed. "I loved our son. I miss him so 

much." She was quieter now, more reserved. He had hurt her with that last 

exchange. He hadn't meant to.

"Demona, I'm sorry." He embraced her gently, and she rested her head 

on his shoulder. "I know you love him. I didn't mean to fight."

"I know, but it doesn't hurt any less. Mark, why is he so blind?"

"Goliath, I assume?"

She nodded quietly.

"He believes that humanity will eventually accept the existence of gargoyles. 

I hope he's right."

"Surely you know better than that. Even after you humans thought gargoyles 

extinct, you fought amongst your own kind. How many bloody wars have you fought 

in, and ultimately, what for? You humans fight over religion, wealth, skin color, 

even the dirt you stand on. If humanity would do this to itself, how can Goliath ever 

truly expect them to accept us?"

"What is a man, or gargoyle, without purpose? If Goliath accepts your views, 

than what does he have left? He would lose Elisa, and ultimately, the whole clan would 

be destroyed. Gargoyles protect, and Goliath feels obligated to fulfill that instinct. You 

know as well as I do that you will never be able to destroy humanity, much as you might 

wish otherwise."

Demona grinned wickedly. "Don't be so sure, my love. All things come to 

those who wait."

"You know I would have to try to stop you."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Besides, soon we'll both be otherwise engaged."

"You mean the Hunter's Moon?"

"Yes." Her eyes began to glow again. "A thousand years, and those fools 

still come. This time, the Canmore clan shall hunt no more."

"Demona, we can't win. I tried, about a hundred years ago, but even the 

much vaunted 'Husband of the Demon' couldn't destroy the bloodline. It just isn't 

worth it. Whatever happened before, don't make things worse now."

She shrieked again, and for a moment, he thought she might actually strike

him. "How dare you lecture me! I have been their prey for a thousand years, our son 

fell to them, and they have hunted you as well. How can you ask me to leave them be?"

"We are immortal, Demona. We'll outlast them, and hopefully one day the 

Canmores will abandon this foolish quest. If not, we'll deal with them as they come, 

but I won't spill innocent blood over sins that occurred centuries ago."

Demona pondered this for a moment, and decided to change the topic. After 

all, she hadn't come to get into a fight, and their quarrels were usually quite destructive.

She turned to look around the room. "It's quite lovely. You must have 

everything you need here. Maybe I should have my office decorated in a similar 

fashion, hmm? I assume you are aware of my ... transformations?"

"Yes. Speaking of which, why were you posing as a reporter at the airport 

when I returned to Manhattan?"

"I guessed that you were still unaware of that damned Puck's 'gift' to me, and 

I know you have an eye for women, so I thought I could get close to you and find out 

what you were up to."

"You could have just asked me. Why use an accent?"

"Who, moi?" She smiled again, showing off her fangs. "Dominique Destine 

was an identity I originally used in Paris. I hoped that the accent would keep you from 

noticing the resemblance to the Dominique Destine that runs Nightstone Unlimited. 

Besides, it worked so well on MacBeth." Her smile became a cruel sneer.

Mark looked away for a moment, and Demona realized that she had hurt 

him with her comment. He must have felt betrayed when she had "married" MacBeth, 

but he kept silent.

"Mark?" She seemed concerned. Making him upset could jeopardize her 

entire plan.

"So," he started, regaining his composure. "Whatever happened to Thailog?"

She clenched her fists as the mention of his name, a wave of anger washing 

over her and overwhelming her concern for her husband. "He would have killed 

Angela! Hopefully, he perished in the fire, but one never knows. He had Xanatos' 

cunning."

Mark nodded. "I also understand he used genetic material to make gargoyle 

clones, including a hybrid of you and Elisa. Am I right?"

"Yes. The bastard named her Delilah! She was to replace me! Thailog 

meant to betray me from the start!"

"I know, I met her once. It's ... unsettling. She reminds me of the both of 

you on such a primal level. Whatever Thailog programmed her with, it was damn 

sophisticated. She may not be particularly intelligent, but she knows how to ... attract 

attention. I was very uncomfortable around her. Anyway, you risked everything for 

Angela. You do care for her."

"She said that she hated me."

"I think that Angela would have wanted to tell you herself, she didn't mean 

it. She loves you, and she was very happy that you risked everything to save her and 

the clan. Personally, I'd say there's hope for you yet."

Demona looked back at him with an expression of annoyance. "Mark, you 

know better than anyone that there was no risk to me. Angela may be that gullible, 

but you aren't."

"That won't work Demona. You're right, I *do* know better. We may be 

immortal, but we feel pain just as much as anyone else. In some ways, I think it's 

worse for us. We know full well that we will survive, but we suffer unimaginable 

pain over and over. I've been shot, stabbed, drowned, burned, and killed in more 

fashions that I care to remember. It's never easy, despite the immortality."

"No, I suppose it isn't."

She looked out the glass doors, into the night. She almost felt guilty; if 

her plans succeeded, there would be no humans left, except for MacBeth and Mark. 

She presumed that the link would protect Mark, and unfortunately, MacBeth as well. 

Perhaps then she could find a way to sever the arcane link that bound them all 

without killing herself or her husband. Eventually, Mark would forgive her, 

even for committing genocide, and she would have everything; her husband, 

her daughter, and a world without humans. Still, she didn't want to alert him 

to anything now, as he would certainly try to stop her. After five hundred years 

of planning, she wouldn't let anything stop her now. Absently, she ran her talons 

across the glass doors, leaving small scratches in them.

"Demona?"

"Hmmm ... what?" She snapped back to the present. She hadn't realized 

how absorbed in thought she had become. Mark was looking at her, a concerned 

expression on his face.

"It's all right, beloved. Just ... remembering." she lied.

He nodded. "I want to show you something, something special to me."

Demona watched with interest as Mark walked over to the bookcase 

and pulled out a book of Shakespeare's plays. As the entire case slid away to 

reveal his private room, she smiled to herself. Very clever, she mused. It would 

seem that she wasn't the only one to become craftier over the centuries.

Mark took her hand gently, and she mutely allowed herself to be led 

inside. The sight that awaited her was at once awesome and frightening. The 

room was littered with dozens of representations of her; statues, paintings, 

sculptures, and drawings.

"I ... had no idea" she gasped. "All these years, and you kept these 

things to remind you ..." her comment was cut short as she broke into laughter, 

her gaze falling on a stone pedestal.

"What is it, Demona? Is something wrong?" Mark asked, looking 

confused.

Demona managed to stop laughing long enough to explain. "I hope 

you haven't been wasting time trying to track down the statue."

The pedestal in question had a small plaque with an ornate inscription 

which read 'LE GROTESQUE'. The statue that originally graced the pedestal 

had been that of a female gargoyle. Carved by an otherwise unknown French 

sculptor, the statue had disappeared from the Louver centuries ago, only a few 

days after being put on display. Mark had spent several lifetimes and a small 

fortune trying to track it down.

"Yes, Demona. From what I read, the statue looked a great deal like 

you."

"Oh, that it did, love. Do you know why?" Demona was grinning 

again, looking positively wicked.

Mark shook his head no. "Why?"

"It WAS me!" She laughed again before continuing. "I needed a 

safe place to roost during the day, and the sculptor was woefully uninspired,

so we made a deal. I would pose for him by day, and he guaranteed my safety 

as well as ensuring that I was away from prying eyes come nightfall. It was 

perfect! Who would steal a statue? After a time I grew tired of the arrangement 

and left, no one ever figured it out."

Demona then looked around at all the other items. She noted that the 

glass case, one similar to the one Xanatos had housed the Grimorum in, was 

empty. After scanning the room again, she looked back at her human husband. 

"Why keep all these things? One might think that you were obsessed, dear husband."

"It was all I had left of you, Demona. Besides, there are some things 

here that might interest you as well."

The gargoyle fell silent as she saw the smaller glass cases he gestured 

to. One held a solid gold wedding band, with two hearts entwined. The others 

had some small, thin chips of stone, one made of extremely fragile chips, and the 

other of more substantial pieces.

"The ring, and eggshell fragments, I assume? What of the other case?"

"Yes, our son. The other chips are yours, Demona, from when you slept." 

Mark gently rubbed her shoulders as he spoke.

Demona opened the case containing the fragments of her son's shell and 

gingerly removed one. A single tear ran down her cheek. "I have a similar case 

at home." She then turned around, embracing Mark tightly. As she pressed her 

head to his chest, she looked up at him. "Mark, I can't come home, not yet. I'm 

sorry, but we're just not ready."

He felt as if his heart had shattered. To have come so close, to have her 

here with him now, only to have his hopes and desires smashed. The only thing 

he had to cling to was that she had said "yet". That would have to be enough for 

now.

"Demona, at least stay until morning. I can't be alone again, not now."

She pulled away hesitantly and walked slowly towards the sliding doors 

of the terrace. "Mark, why make things more difficult? If I stay ..."

"All right. I understand, but please, don't go after the Hunters. Don't make 

things worse." he said.

"I won't." She smiled. "After the Hunter's Moon, my love, we can be 

together again. Everything will be fine then, and I will come back to you forever, 

I promise."

If Mark hadn't been so desperate and alone, he might have been suspicious. 

Demona had mentioned the Hunter's Moon very specifically without explaining the 

significance. But Mark's sense of caution had been overridden, and he hadn't given 

it another thought. Walking over to her, he pulled her close.

The two figures kissed, and for that one shining instant, both forgot their

pain. It was as if the past nine centuries had never happened. Demona's mind was 

no longer full of hatred and the desire for vengeance, and Mark forgot the burden of 

blame and anguish he had carried. As their lips parted, the moment faded, and the 

weight of the years came crushing down again.

"Mark, I have to go. Please, stay away from Nightstone until I return, and 

remember that no matter what happens, I will always love you." She turned and 

walked out onto the terrace, preparing to depart. She could hear Mark following 

her.

"I will. Please be careful, Demona." Mark couldn't help but feel sad, as 

if he wasn't going to see her again. He put the thought out of his mind.

"Thank you. I don't want the publicity of Mark Flyer visiting Dominique 

Destine right now. Remember, I will be back." With that, Demona launched 

herself off the roof, unfurling her wings. Catching a thermal updraft, she soared 

away into the night.

Mark watched her glide off towards the west. He knew he should tell 

someone, probably Elisa. However, he also knew that she would be highly skeptical 

at best, considering Demona's past actions. He could tell Angela, certainly she 

would be more receptive, but why bother?

He smiled to himself. In a few nights, everything would be perfect. 

The Hunter's Moon would be over, Demona would come home, and he could 

finally enjoy life. However, he needed to prepare for those next few nights. 

More specifically, he needed to prepare for the Hunters. As Mark Flyer, he 

had become extremely prominent, and therefore extremely visible. An attack 

was almost a certainty.

Mark sighed quietly and went back inside. Another attack was the 

last thing he needed right now. It hadn't been long since the terrace had been 

damaged in the fight with Xanatos, and it would likely be damaged again when 

the Hunters finally attacked. 

*****

Unfortunately, Mark had underestimated the Hunters again. The three 

siblings had been in Manhattan for over a week, preparing and biding their time. 

They had done enough research to narrow their search significantly. The 

overwhelming number of gargoyle sightings had led them here to Manhattan.

They knew full-well who Mark was, and had adjusted their search 

accordingly. Jon had been assigned to David Xanatos, the industrialist. Mr. 

Xanatos recently purchased a medieval Scottish castle and moved it here, and

gargoyle sightings had begun shortly thereafter. It made him a subject worthy 

of scrutiny, using the identity of John Carter, WVRN news reporter.

Robyn had been assigned to investigate Dominique Destine, the CEO 

of Nightstone Unlimited. The redheaded woman had seemingly appeared from 

nowhere, founding the company virtually overnight. The company's unusual 

name alone would have been dismissed as coincidence, but the fact that Ms. 

Destine had *never* been seen or photographed by night had attracted their 

attention. Her cover identity of Robyn Corey would allow her to keep tabs 

on the woman.

Finally, Jason had been assigned to Detective Elisa Maza. She was 

suspect largely because of the company she kept. As a transfer officer, Jason

Canover, that should be easy enough to check her out.. She had been seen 

quite frequently with Mark Flyer, the Demon's Husband, and had also paid

many visits to Xanatos at his castle. She may be completely innocent, but 

they had to be sure.

*****

Mark was in good spirits the next day. He had heard about the 

subway incident the gargoyles were involved in, and although people still 

were afraid of them, more acts like that should help them significantly. 

He had wanted to talk to Elisa, but found that she wasn't home. Curious, 

he had called the station only to find out that she had been reassigned to 

the day shift.

In a way, that was good. He didn't envy trying to explain himself 

to Elisa. She would not, could not understand why he trusted Demona 

implicitly. No one could appreciate their bond. Linked by sorcery, they 

were truly one. Neither had any hope of a true life without the other, it 

seemed. But together, together they had been happy, and might be again.

*****

Dominique Destine had been quiet for most of the day. She was 

going to interview an applicant, one Robyn Corey, for the position of 

personal assistant. Unfortunately, her mind wasn't on her work. Seeing 

Mark again had truly meant something to her, more than she had thought 

it would.

He still loved her completely, despite everything she had done. In 

most men, she would find such a thing absurd, but not in him. She had 

fought alongside him, loved him, and she knew that he was no fool. Mark 

had suffered as she had, living eternally in a world of paltry humans who 

neither understood them nor cared to. While she had her vengeance to 

keep her going, he had apparently been waiting, waiting for her to come 

home.

He had felt as Goliath did, that someday, humans and gargoyles 

could once again coexist in peace. It seemed that he had abandoned that 

view, content merely to associate with Goliath and his clan. He had also 

been more than willing to take her back, to start anew with her. The offer 

was tempting.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of her intercom. It 

seemed that Robyn had arrived.

*****

Late that evening, Mark grew worried. He had seen the gargoyles 

return from whatever rounds they had that night, but Angela hadn't visited. 

That was unusual, since she had tried to visit every night, or send word 

through Elisa. His curiosity piqued, he headed to the clock tower.

After climbing the long stairwell to their roosting place, he 

opened the trapdoor. In his worst nightmares, he couldn't have imagined 

a worse scene. Elisa was hunched over Angela, giving her CPR while the 

clan looked on anxiously. Before he could ask what had happened, Angela 

coughed and writhed a bit. Elisa had managed to resuscitate her!

"My God! What happened?" he asked.

Elisa asked as well, and Goliath said something that made Mark's 

blood run ice-cold.

"...they called themselves Hunters ..."

The rest barely registered on him, until he heard Goliath swear 

bloody revenge. 

"No! Goliath, you can't! You've got to ..." he was cut off by the 

rising of the sun, as the gargoyles became stone once more. He clenched 

his fists angrily as Elisa approached.

"Mark, what's wrong? You sound almost ... scared." she said.

"Elisa, please, keep them away from each other. The Hunters 

will butcher Goliath and the clan in a heartbeat."

"Mark, who are they? Why are you so worried?" Elisa was 

very concerned.

"They are the descendants of the man who killed my son. All 

they live for is Demona's death, and mine as well ..."

"What!" she was shocked. "Why would they attack Angela and 

the others, then?"

"Because the Hunters have been slaughtering gargoyles wherever 

they found them. I neither know nor care why they hunt us anymore." He 

shook his head sadly. "They probably mistook Angela for Demona, or 'The

Demon', as they call her. Elisa, please, keep Goliath away from them. 

Leave the hunt to me, it's my fight, not his. If he gets involved, he'll doom 

the entire clan!"

"Are you listening to yourself? This isn't the Old West! You can't 

just hunt these people down! Besides, there's more bad news. Demona stole 

some chemical bonding agent, D/I-7. She nearly killed Bronx and the trio 

getting it."

"I don't care," he replied.

"What! How can you say that?" Elisa was outraged. Mark had 

gone from being concerned for the gargoyles to turning a blind eye to 

Demona's criminal actions. "That's ... insane!"

"I said, I don't give a damn what she did! She's not the enemy 

here, the Hunters are!" He looked out at the brightening sky for a moment. 

"She's coming home. You can't understand what that means to me."

"Demona? She's coming ... you mean, back to you? But why?"

"I don't know, and I'm not about to question her, either. After 

almost nine-hundred years, it's finally over."

Elisa knew better than to argue. Mark had made it very clear 

on more than one occasion that Demona's past meant nothing to him. 

But if she was coming back to him, then why steal the chemicals? She 

would have to look into this herself, and hope for the best.

"Mark, please promise me you won't go after these Hunters."

"Elisa, I ..."

"Promise me, don't put me in the position of having to try and 

stop you."

Mark looked at her and smiled. She had that look, one of complete 

determination. She meant what she said. "All right, Elisa, I won't take any 

action yet, I promise."

She relaxed visibly. "Great, now, I gotta get to work. Just take 

care of yourself, okay?"

He nodded. "Sure, Elisa."

Both figures left the clock tower, each with their own agendas 

and private thoughts.

*****

Mark couldn't help but think that Elisa was right, Demona must 

be up to something. Why would she steal chemicals, unless she was 

planning something?

He had promised to stay away, but he needed answers. After 

heading home for a few hours of rest, he made his way to the Nightstone 

building. Whether she wanted to see him or not, she was going to tell 

him the truth.

Walking in, he checked the directory for Demona's human name. 

Finding her at the very top of the building, he slipped into an elevator and 

pressed the button for the top floor.

As the doors opened silently, Mark stepped out to see a smartly 

dressed redhead sitting at a desk in front of what must have been Demona's 

office. The nameplate on her desk read 'Ms. Rhonda Blair'. Seeing him 

approach, Rhonda looked up and smiled.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"I'm looking for Dominique Destine, please." he said.

"Do you have an appointment, sir?" she asked, looking in her 

appointment book.

"No. Just tell her that Mark Flyer is here to see her. She'll 

understand."

She scrutinized him for a moment before relenting. She picked 

up her phone and dialed. "Ms. Destine? I'm so sorry to interrupt, but the 

man you said might be coming is here outside your office. Shall I ..." she 

paused, listening. "Send him down, yes ma'am, right away."

Rhonda hung the receiver up and looked back towards him. "Ms. 

Destine said you might be coming here today. She's on the 65th floor, in 

the BioGen department. Just take your first left when you exit the elevator. 

She's expecting you."

Mark thanked her and made his way back to the elevator. Moments 

later, he was on the 65th floor, following Rhonda's directions. Hearing 

Demona's voice, he quickened his pace and entered another office space. 

His centuries of experience could not have prepared him for the sight inside. 

Demona was talking calmly to Doctor Anton Sevarius! He barely even noticed 

the blonde woman with them, standing beside and slightly behind Ms. Destine. 

"You!" Mark exclaimed angrily, crossing the room in a few quick 

strides.

The trio looked up at the noise, and Demona's eyes widened. 

Unseen by the others, Robyn's hand slipped into a secret pocket in her 

blazer. Cursing silently, she was beginning to panic. How could Mark 

have found her? More importantly, how could he have recognized her? 

Mark had never met any of the current generation of Canmores. As her 

hand tightened on the grip of a small pistol, Mark stormed right by her, 

barely acknowledging her.

In a single fluid motion, before anyone could react, Mark had 

snatched the geneticist off his feet with one hand, drawing the other back 

to deliver a killing blow! "It's too bad Elisa won't be here to see this!" 

Mark growled through gritted teeth. His hand tensed as he prepared to 

kill the madman that had caused so much misery.

Dominique immediately took charge of the situation. "Mark! 

Put him down this instant!"

Shocked out of his rage by Demona's outburst, he dropped 

Anton, who gasped for air and backed away slightly. Before either man 

could act further. Dominique stepped between them, glaring angrily at 

Mark. "You, in there, now!" she barked, gesturing to a large door. 

Robyn had withdrawn her hand, seeing that Mark's reaction had been 

meant for the Doctor, and not her after all.

Meeting her gaze, Mark could see that she was absolutely livid! 

Silently he turned and stalked towards the door, which hissed open when 

he drew near.

"Excuse us for a moment, Robyn, Anton. We need to speak in 

private." Dominique said. "I trust you are unhurt?" she asked.

Sevarius nodded, straightening his clothes. "That man will pay 

dearly for ..."

Ms. Destine, who had been walking towards the door, whirled 

angrily. "You will hold your tongue, Doctor! If you are foolish enough 

to attack him, the next time he *will* kill you!" She then turned back 

towards the doorway and headed in. The door hissed shut as she entered.

"How dare you barge in here and behave like that! This isn't 

some castle for you to pillage!" Demona screamed. "You would have 

killed him if I hadn't stopped you!"

Mark looked back, angry, but still in control. "In a heartbeat! 

The man is a moral cipher. Demona! He created the Mutates, Thailog, 

the Clone Clan, and Delilah, all to torment the gargoyles. What the hell 

is he doing here?" he demanded.

Demona raised herself to her full height, posturing regally. "I 

will employ anyone I wish! Do you think me stupid? I don't trust him 

any more than I trusted Xanatos. However, as repugnant as he is, he has 

his uses. Is that sufficient reason for you?"

"Not really, but I suppose it will have to be. I want the truth, 

Demona. Did you steal some chemical disinfectant last night?"

Demona frowned. "Yes. Did your little detective friend tell you 

that?"

"Yes, she did. What are you playing at here? Why did you need

it?"

"Mark, please. You know I would never hurt you ..."

"The truth, Demona!"

"Fine!" she snapped. "I have an ... infestation I need to tend to. 

The disinfectant is a part of a project. Sevarius has developed a carrier 

virus to bond it to."

Mark looked concerned. "And just what are you eliminating?"

Demona looked him in the eyes. "I swear to you, Mark, this is 

not going to be used to hurt you *or* the gargoyles. You have my word."

He scrutinized her carefully, looking for the slightest crack in her 

facade. There was none, perhaps Demona was telling him the truth. Finally, 

he nodded quietly. "I ... believe you, Demona."

She smiled. "I'm glad. I should be angrier with you for coming here, 

but I suppose you had good reason. Remember what I promised you, my love. 

After the Hunter's Moon, we will be together again, now and forever."

The pair embraced for a moment before Demona looked up at him. 

"Mark, you have to go. I have things to attend to now."

"All right, Demona. I'll see you soon." With that, Mark exited the 

chamber, wordlessly passing Robyn and Sevarius. Silently, he prayed that

everything would work out this time, and that Demona was truly being

honest with him.

Demona allowed herself a cruel smile as she came out. "Everything's 

fine now, Doctor. Please continue your work. Come along, Robyn ..."

The transformed gargoyle smiled to herself. Mark had believed her, as

she knew he would. After a fashion, she had told him the truth. Her virus

wouldn't harm the gargoyles, nor would it injure her husband. Soon, she

thought, very soon and all her problems would be solved.

*****

The rest of the day passed uneventfully for Mark. He had pondered 

the notion of trying to find the Canmores now, but dismissed it almost 

immediately. In a city this vast, the chances of finding them were almost 

nil.

Goliath was a larger concern. He wanted revenge for the near

murder of his daughter, and that was dangerous. Mark knew first hand 

how anger could cloud one's judgment. He also knew that he couldn't 

stop Goliath alone, he would need Elisa for that.

Having decided that finding Elisa would be the best course of action, 

he made his way to her apartment soon after dark. 

As he made his way down the hall to her door, Elisa's partner, Jason,

passed him, leaving her apartment. The two barely acknowledged each other,

and Mark couldn't help feeling a tension from the larger man.

Knocking on the door, Mark wondered what he had been doing here.

The door opened, and Elisa peeked out. Seeing that it was Mark, she let him 

in. "Mark? What's up?" she asked.

"Elisa, you need to talk to Goliath, he isn't going to listen to me, but

he might listen to you."

The detective nodded quietly. "I - I will, okay?"

Mark scrutinized her for a moment. "Something's up with Jason,

isn't it?"

"Yes, he, we, I can't. I, I think ..."

"You love Goliath." Mark finished.

Elisa hugged him tightly. "Yes, but, but what chance do we have?"

Mark shrugged. "Maybe none, but is that more important that your

feelings?" He kissed her on the forehead gently. "Go to him, Elisa. Tell him

exactly how you feel, while you can. If you don't, you'll never forgive yourself."

He left Elisa's quickly. Something wasn't right here, but he'd be damned 

if he could figure out what. Something about Jason bothered him, but it wasn't 

anything he could put a finger on. It wasn't jealously, he was sure of that, but 

something else, something serious. Jason had just made him very uneasy.

*****

On the Hunters' airship, Robyn was showing Jon and Jason the 

computer composite of Demona and Dominique Destine.

"Incredible, but how?" Jon asked.

"The obvious answer is sorcery, little brother. How else could the 

Demon live so long? And, what's more, her Husband came to see her today. 

I think that's proof enough, Jason?"

The largest of the siblings nodded. "Aye, we'll see to the Demon, 

and then we'll destroy the man who dared to turn his back on humanity! Soon, 

the Hunt will finally end!"

*****

After settling in at his suite, Mark waited to hear from Elisa. Hopefully 

she could make Goliath understand that revenge would only make things worse. 

Mark knew from firsthand experience that the Canmores neither forgave nor forgot 

their enemies, ever. As the night wore on, he began to worry. Elisa should have 

arrived at the precinct by now.

Heading to his terrace, he scanned the night sky for signs of the gargoyles. 

Nothing, he hadn't seen anything. As he turned to head back inside, the quiet was 

broken by a massive explosion! Turning, he saw the plumes of smoke rising from 

the general area of the clock tower.

No! It couldn't be! Not after all this time! Running back inside, Mark 

pulled a coat on and dashed out, making his way to Elisa's precinct. When he 

finally arrived, his worst fears were confirmed, the clock tower had been destroyed. 

Wounded police and citizens were being escorted out by EMTs and helped into 

ambulances.

Mark scanned the crowd, hoping to see Elisa, but she wasn't there. However, 

he *did* see Maria Chavez, Elisa's superior. She was limping slightly, but looked to

be in fair shape. The two had met a few times when he was dating Elisa, and he 

found her a pleasant enough woman. Maybe she could tell him what happened.

"Maria, what happened here?" he asked.

"What? Mark! There was an explosion, and Elisa ... someone took her, 

whisked her away as it was happening." She was escorted to a waiting ambulance 

as she spoke.

"Go ahead, I'll ask around here." he said, helping her up into the back. He 

then turned to look for Matt Bluestone, another contact.

Unfortunately, Matt looked to have his hands full with reporters and crowd 

control. Mark couldn't get to him, and the area was being cordoned off even now. 

Looking back at the ruins of the tower, he shook his head sadly. Goliath and his 

clan had deserved better than this.

Clenching his fists tightly, he looked up into the sky. "Sleep well, my 

friends. You will be avenged." Mark then headed back to the Manhattan Arms, 

back home to prepare.

As he returned to his suite, his mind was numb. His fault, this was all his 

fault. He could have stopped all of this before it even started, but he hadn't. Now, 

that act had cost an entire clan of gargoyles their lives. He had sworn to protect 

them, and he had brought death down upon them all!

It had to end. He had to do what must be done. Mark had to end the 

Canmore line now, before any more innocents died. As he prepared for war, he 

remembered the mistake that had led to this tragedy.

Almost a century ago, in 1901, Mark had managed to track the Canmore

family to Frontier America, in Texas. At that point in history, oil had been

discovered there, and it was providing the economic incentives needed to 

industrialize the territory.

In finding the Hunter, the two had fought, and Mark had very nearly killed

his opponent, stopping only when he realized that the man's son, no older than

ten, was watching the exchange in horror. Appalled by what he had nearly done,

Mark spared the man. He had come close to becoming as much a monster as the men

who had killed his son! Worse, he had nearly done so in front of a child!

Mark snapped back to the present. The memory was a bitter one. At the 

time, he had truly believed that he was doing the right thing. Maybe if he had 

struck the man down, this could all have been prevented. He now knew what he 

had done. He had poured more fire on the flame of hatred. The boy had been 

more determined, not less, after Mark's attack. He had brought this all down 

upon them all.

As he checked his equipment over, a news broadcast on the television 

attracted his attention.

"... by the creatures now known as Gargoyles ..." 

The accompanying footage showed Goliath and the others escaping 

from the ruins of the clock tower. They had survived! Unfortunately, that 

wonderful news was tempered by the fact that the gargoyles were being blamed 

for the attack. Since it was reasonable to assume that the Canmores had destroyed 

the tower in an effort to kill the clan, it was also fair to assume that they were also 

responsible for this footage.

But where would they go? Deprived of their home, with the Hunters 

seeking them, what place would they seek? It cam to him in an instant, Elisa's 

apartment! 

Dialing the phone, he paced impatiently. "Answer, damn it, answer!" 

he fumed angrily. Suddenly, he heard someone pick up on the other line.

A groggy voice came over the receiver. "H-hello?" It was Elisa, but 

she sounded different, as if she were half-asleep.

"Elisa? God, are you all right? Are the gargoyles there with you?" he 

asked, an edge of concern in his voice.

"M-mark? Who ... where ... what happened to me? Jason, he ... he 

drugged me, must've left me," there was a pause. "Yeah, the clan's here. I, 

I think you should come over here, okay?"

"Sure, Elisa. I'll be right there/" Mark hung up the phone and prepared 

to leave. He had most of what he needed, and there was plenty of time before 

nightfall. He made his way to Elisa's. On his way, he pondered this new 

revelation. Jason was one of the Canmores. That told him who one of them 

was, anyway. A few discreet calls to some international agencies would get 

him the rest. With a little luck, he could end this without involving Goliath 

at all. Picking up the phone again, Mark made some more calls, to get the 

information he needed on the Canmores. When he finished, he set out for 

Elisa's apartment.

As soon as he came in, Elisa was there to greet him. She was already 

sounding better than she had over the phone. After the two traded stories and 

were up to date, Elisa spoke again.

"I have to check in, can you ...?"

"Watch over the clan? Of course. Elisa ..."

"I know, it's all gonna hit the fan. Any thoughts?"

"It won't blow over, and Goliath's too stubborn to hide. This time, I 

have no idea. I'm sure he won't agree to staying with me, either."

"Great, just great. Life in Manhattan just gets better and better." 

Elisa said. With that, she left to get to work.

With the setting of the sun, the gargoyles burst forth from their 

stone skin, scattering it everywhere. After a little disorientation at their 

new surroundings, Goliath looked to Lexington for assistance.

"Can you use this to lead me to them?" he asked of the smallest 

gargoyle.

Lexington was not only the smallest, but also the most proficient 

with technology. Despite objections from some of the others, he agreed to 

help.

This was too much for Mark to bear, however. "Goliath! What the 

hell are you doing? Wasn't losing the clock tower enough of a hint? Keep 

after the Hunters, and you'll get yourself killed!"

The lavender gargoyle turned towards him, eyes glowing with rage. 

"How *dare* you talk to me like that! Who are you to lecture me on vengeance? 

I will have my revenge!" he roared, flaring his wings.

Mark remained calm, staring the huge gargoyle in the eyes. "Very well, 

then. After you return tonight, assuming you *do* return, I shall consider our 

association at an end."

This met with gasps of shock and surprise from most of the others. 

Angela looked to be devastated by this news, but kept silent.

Mark shook his head sadly and continued. "I've buried too many 

friends over the years to add you and your clan, especially if you're going to 

go looking for trouble. You're starting to sound like another Demona, Goliath. 

*You* should know better."

"Go, then! Go back to your ivory tower, Mark, and pass your judgment 

on the world! I neither need nor want your help!" Goliath took the transmitter 

from Lexington and left, gliding off into the night.

"Mark, you can't be serious!" Elisa said, taking his hand. "How can you 

abandon him now? He needs all of us, now more than ever!"

Angela stepped forward, tears in her eyes. "What about us? You'll leave 

me, all of us, just to get back at Goliath?"

"Angela, you don't understand. I can't stand by him, not like this. He's 

angry, maybe when he calms down ..."

Angela's expression brightened. "Then you weren't serious?"

"I didn't say that. If Goliath can stop himself, if he can come to his senses, 

than yes, I'll stay."

"Thank you!" she said, hugging him.

"Don't thank me yet, Angela. It's up to Goliath now ..."

Mark sat with the others and listened in on the radio Goliath had brought. 

When he had finally found the Hunters, and come under attack, Elisa took charge.

"Broadway, I need to get to him, now." she said.

"But Elisa, you heard him, the clan stays here." Broadway said sadly.

"I'm not asking for the clan to go, but I need someone to get me there fast, 

understand?"

Broadway smiled broadly. "Sure! The *clan* doesn't go to Goliath, but 

some of us go with *you*, gotcha!"

Then, Broadway glided off with Elisa in his arms, headed for the dam.

"Do you think they'll be all right?" Angela asked Mark.

"I hope so, Angela. I hope so."

Unfortunately, things were not all right. As the others continued to listen 

over the radio, they heard Elisa fall over the side with Jason, and heard Goliath's 

anguished cries when he couldn't save her. Everyone was hurt by the news, but

Mark seemed abnormally quiet, saying nothing until Goliath's return.

"We, we heard everything." Lexington said, hanging his head.

That was when Mark stepped forward, glaring angrily at the massive 

lavender gargoyle. "Congratulations, Goliath. Now you have become 

Demona."

As the others looked on with wide eyes, he continued to berate Goliath 

angrily. "An innocent person has died for your thirst for vengeance, gargoyle. 

I hope you're satisfied, because I'm sure she won't be the last. I warned you 

before, and you didn't listen. Effective immediately, our alliance is ended."

As soon as he finished, Mark turned on his heel and walked out. Goliath 

said nothing, merely watching him leave. He was still in shock from losing Elisa, 

and Mark's angry words barely registered with him.

Angela crept forward, taking her father's hand. "He's just ... hurt. He 

loved Elisa too."

Goliath squeezed her hand gently. "It does not matter. Tomorrow night, 

Elisa's death will be avenged!"

*****

Mark was devastated. As much as this may have been Goliath's fault, he 

was no less to blame. If he had been more determined earlier, hunted the 

Canmores down when he had the chance, none of this would have happened. 

No, as much as he said that Goliath was to blame, he knew in his heart that 

he, and he alone, was responsible for the death of Elisa Maza.

Like all the others he had confided in, she had left him. It was cold 

comfort to know that she would have probably died anyway, since she had 

*already* known the gargoyles. If he had only acted when he had the opportunity, 

Elisa would be alive now!

He couldn't bring her back, but he could see to it that the Canmore line 

ended, tonight. On the Hunter's Moon, the Hunters would be no more. With 

Elisa dead, there was no reason to honor his promise to her anymore. Now he

would hunt the Hunters, and kill them all. It might cost him his integrity, his 

very soul, but it would be worth it to keep Goliath from dooming himself or his 

clan. Besides, he had nothing more to lose. Elisa was dead, and Demona 

certainly wouldn't condemn him for his actions.

As noon approached, he began to unpack some of his weapons. It 

was the only way, he kept telling himself, the only way to end this.

*****

Dominique Destine looked out at the city. In a few hours, she would 

complete Operation: Clean Sweep, and humanity would be wiped from the face 

of the earth. She was at home, planning the last details of her scheme.

She couldn't risk being in her office, in case someone came to delay her. 

No one, not even Mark, knew where she lived, and that was how she liked it. 

Still, there was that one nagging doubt in her mind. What if Mark *wouldn't* 

forgive her? Worse, what if he was so angered that he decided to help MacBeth 

hunt her down?

She drove the thoughts from her mind. No! She had come too far, 

given up too much, to back out now! If Mark couldn't love her unconditionally, 

than to hell with him. She glanced nervously at a clock. Only two hours until 

sunset, and then her plans would be complete!

*****

"They killed him," Jon said again. Ever since Jason had died with that 

Maza woman, killed by Goliath, the youngest Canmore had been devastated.

"We'll avenge him, Jon, and stop the others as well. I just don't want to 

lose you too." Robyn said sadly. Her brother had changed, become hard and 

bitter.

As the massive airship flew over Manhattan, the home of another of 

their quarry came into view. It was Mark Flyer's penthouse!

"At least now we can make her suffer before we kill her!" Jon cried. 

"Are you with me, Robyn?"

"Aye," she replied, checking her gun. "We'll head in through the floor 

below him, and take him by surprise!" She felt no remorse at what she intended 

to do. No matter what had happened, the Demon had killed her father before her 

eyes! Anyone that could take up with her was as guilty as the Demon herself.

*****

Mark looked at his watch, noting the time. In two hours, he would begin 

the Hunt. Opening the classified reports he had received, he glanced at the faces 

of his enemies. He recognized Jason as Elisa's partner, and from her description. 

Maybe if he had acted on his initial reactions, confronted the man, all of the 

subsequent events could have been avoided.

He didn't recognize Jon at all. He had never met him. The last photo 

was definitely familiar! Robyn was the woman he had seen that morning with 

Demona and Sevarius! Damn! He had two chances to stop this, and he 

hadn't known to act on either one!

Gathering up his lightning gun, one of Demona's maces, and a particle 

beam rifle, Mark headed for the door to his bedroom, to get a few more items. 

Just then a knock at the door attracted his attention.

"Who is it?" he called, curious as to who would be here this time of 

day.

"I'm here to clean, Mister Flyer." a female voice responded.

Odd, Mark thought. The maid is here rather early to clean. Still, 

who else would be here now? "All right, come in!" he replied. "Door's open."

"How kind of ye!" the female voice answered, changing pitch and 

tone, to a Scottish accent.

Mark turned, already reaching for his lightning gun as the door 

burst open. Jon and Robyn rushed in, guns at the ready. As they opened 

fire, Mark thumbed the power level on his lightning gun to maximum, 

lined up a shot, and fired, dodging wildly.

His electrical burst caught Jon square in the chest, powerful arcs

of current coursing through the Hunter, and sending him backwards into 

the wall. His scream of pain was cut off as he rebounded off the wall and

landed hard on the floor. He did not get up.

Meanwhile, Robyn opened fire, anger and concern over her brother's 

injuries intensifying her actions. "Die, you inhuman monster!" she screamed. 

She squeezed off three shots in rapid succession. The first missed 

him completely, but the second and third found their targets. One seared 

into his right arm, causing his gun to drop from senseless fingers, while 

the other sliced through his torso, piercing his heart.

As Mark fell, he could feel himself slipping away. The wound 

was fatal, and he was dying, again. Had he the strength, he would have 

chuckled. This was twice in as many months that he had been killed. 

Meeting Goliath and the others had made him soft. He barely felt the 

pain as his body crashed through an antique coffee table to rest on the 

floor, unmoving.

Robyn watched him fall, satisfied that the Demon's Husband 

would not be getting up again, ever. She then turned her attention to 

her brother, who was moaning and stirring slightly.

"That's twice that suit has saved your life, Jon." she smiled, 

helping him to his feet. "Are you all right?"

"Aye, thanks again for these insulated suits," he nodded. "Did 

you kill him?"

"See for yourself." she said, gesturing to Mark's fallen form.

"Then the fight is half-over," he said. There was no regret as 

he looked down at the bloody and battered corpse.

"We still have to get to Saint Damien's Cathedral to stop the 

Demon from slaying all of humanity." Robyn added.

The two Hunters made their way to the terrace, and up to their 

airship.

*****

Demona glided softly through the night sky, headed for a special 

destination. She landed silently on Mark's terrace, and made her way 

inside.

The interior was pitch black, and she fumbled for a light switch. 

"Mark?" she called out softly. Maybe he was safeguarding Angela, or 

asleep. Damn, she thought. If Mark had found out her plans, he might be

waiting for her at the Cathedral, to try and stop her. She had hoped to

strengthen her hold on him by visting him now, promising him that she would

return to him tomorrow night. It was true enough, but it would have served

the dual purpose of keeping him from interfering in her plans as well as

reassuring him of her promise.

"Mark, I've come home." she said in a louder tone, as she clicked 

the light on. The scene that greeted her made her gasp in shock.

Mark was laying in a drying pool of blood, two neat holes in his 

body. One was in his shoulder, and the other was in his chest. Smashed 

furniture and broken objects told her everything, Mark had been ambushed,

no doubt by the Hunters. One of MacBeth's trademark weapons lay where 

Mark must have dropped it. She felt white-hot rage surge through her, and 

she screamed her anger to the night sky.

"NO!" she shrieked furiously. Any small doubts she may have had about

her plans were washed away in a flood of renewed hatred. The very man that

had urged her time and time again to make peace with humanity had now fallen

to their mindless hatreds. With a roar of fury, she brought both fists down

on a table, shattering it. Her initial rage spent, she knelt beside her human

love, cradling his head in her lap.

Kissing him gently, she whispered softly in his ear. "You and I are one,

always." As she spoke, a single tear rolled down her cheek. She wept for the 

pain she had brought down on Mark, the pain he suffered simply for knowing

her. She also mourned the death of the feeble spark of the gargoyle she had briefly

considered becoming, one who lived for more than hate and revenge. But, like all

things, the humans had denied her this as well.

She then laid his head gently on the ground. She knew he would heal, 

but that didn't excuse what the damned Hunters had done.

"Humans!" she spat angrily. "Always the humans! I will avenge you, 

my love!' Turning towards him, she carefully pressed a small vial of brackish

green liquid into his hand. Racing out onto the terrace, she threw herself into 

the sky, screaming her pain and hatred as she soared off towards her destiny.

Peace be damned, she had been a fool to even consider abandoning 

'Clean Slate'. Humans could never be trusted, never! A wicked smile crossed 

her face as she pictured a world without humans to hurt her or those she loved.

*****

"No, wait ..." a voice croaked. It was Mark, barely alive! He had heard 

the Hunters just before lapsing into the cold embrace of death and rebirth. He had 

then awakened to hear Demona, but had been too weak to move, or even to speak.

He knew where she was going, and he knew that he had to save her. The 

Hunters would be waiting for her! Forcing his body to move, and ignoring the pain 

shooting through his battered form, Mark staggered towards his bedroom, gathering

up his weapons. He also carefully tucked the vial into his pocket. He didn't know 

what it was, but if Demona had left it, than it was important.

Making his way out to the terrace, he opened a small secret chamber against 

what seemed to be a normal wall. As the stone slid away, a small hover-cycle, very 

similar to the ones the Hunters used, was revealed.

Pulling himself into the seat, he activated the vehicle, and pointed it towards

the condemned Cathedral.

As more of his strength returned, Mark took a moment to examine the 

situation. The entire Cathedral was surrounded by throngs of angry people, with a 

thin cordon of police trying to hold them back. The rear section of what was 

presumably the Hunters' airship was protruding from the building, as if it had 

rammed the structure.

He could hear the sounds of battle from within, energy blasts and explosions 

rattling the interior. Swooping in close, he flitted in through one of the holes in the 

wall and landed.

There he saw Goliath and the entire clan (although he couldn't see Brooklyn) 

fighting the Hunters. The Canmore siblings were in large suits of powered armor, and 

seemed to be holding their own against the gargoyles. Seeing the Canmores again 

renewed his fury, and he prepared to attack. Tonight, the Hunters would hunt no 

more!

As Robyn turned, smashing Broadway into (and through) one of the pillars, 

Mark readied his mace. With a bellow of rage that would have done any gargoyle 

proud, he threw himself at her.

Robyn cried out as the large, spiked mace smashed into her faceplate, cracking 

it in several places. She then saw the face of her attacker. It was Mark! Somehow, 

he was still alive! Staggering backward, she swatted him away with a backhanded slap.

The crunch of bone as she struck his midsection was clearly audible, and the 

force of her blow sent him careening into the far wall. Astonishingly, he was on his 

feet in an instant, shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking for an opening.

Mark hadn't even felt the blow, or the impact afterwards. Fresh adrenaline 

washed over him, dulling any pain as his ribs began to knit. All that mattered now 

was destroying the Hunters, for what they had taken from him. This one had been 

the one to kill him earlier tonight, and she would pay dearly.

As Mark prepared to attack again, Robyn was hit by two of the gargoyles. 

In a brilliant move, Angela and Broadway hit her simultaneously. Angela hit her 

from behind, in the knees, while Broadway slammed his impressive bulk into her 

chest. The combined assault knocked her over.

At the same time, Goliath had pinned Jon and ripped part of his external 

power supply out. Before any more blows could be struck, a familiar figure 

dashed in. It was Elisa!

"Elisa, alive?" Mark said quietly. As she halted the battle, he saw that 

Jason was with her, and seemingly was here to help. Unfortunately, unlike his

brother, Jon wasn't willing to end the fight, and started towards Goliath.

A grunt of pain from another chamber attracted Mark's attention, it 

was Brooklyn! Goliath heard it too, and started towards the noise. Jon interpreted 

the motion as an attack and raised his weapon as Jason tried to stop him.

The gun went off, and Jason was hit, badly. As he went down, Jon's mind 

snapped. Unable to accept what had just happened, despite his sister's pleas for help, 

he blamed the gargoyles.

"What have I ... what have *they* done?!" he screamed. Swearing bloody 

vengeance against Demona and all her kind, he rocketed off. "The Hunt is not 

over!" he vowed.

Taking up his rifle, Mark brought it to bear on the fleeing Hunter, lining 

up the crosshairs on the retreating armored form.

"Wrong, my friend, the hunt ends *now*!" As he pulled the trigger, Elisa 

knocked his gun away, and the thin beam of energy sliced through the night, missing 

the target by inches.

"How dare you!" Mark yelled, absolutely furious. "You had no right to ..."

"Damn it, Mark! I'll argue philosophy with you later, but Demona has to 

be stopped, now!"

Grudgingly accepting that Elisa was right, Mark dropped his rifle, turning 

towards the other chamber. As he ran into the next room, to see Demona and the 

gargoyles in a standoff. She was holding a large canister of purple liquid in one 

hand, and keeping the clan at bay with the laser rifle in the other. Her eyes 

widened when she saw Mark, but she overcame her shock quickly.

"Demona, don't do this!" he pleaded, holding out his hand to her.

"You can say that, after what they did to you!" she hissed.

Their eyes met for an instant. Mark could *see* the conflict within

her. Part of her wanted revenge, he was sure, but another part was still the 

woman he loved. He looked deep within her, as if he could will her to come 

back to him.

Demona saw the hope and love in her husband's eyes. All this time, 

and he had waited for her, tirelessly and faithfully. Perhaps, despite all her 

pain, he was right. Maybe it was time to lay down the sword, to try another 

way. Yes, she could finally relax. The war was over ...

Mark watched as she relaxed slightly, and moved to place the canister on 

the table. Unfortunately, her actions were interpreted in an entirely different 

light by Goliath.

Seeing her motion, Goliath vaulted over her, crushing the Praying 

Gargoyle statue to dust. "Now spread your poison, if you dare!" he rumbled.

As the other gargoyles closed in, she looked about her for a moment, 

as rage and hatred coursed through her again. Her eyes narrowed. She was 

trapped, and her plans had been ruined again. Seeing no other opportunity 

for escape, she grinned wickedly and hurled the canister into the air. "Catch." 

she said.

As Goliath dove to catch the virus, Demona made her escape, climbing 

out through a hole and gliding off. Goliath and some of the others made after 

her, only to be blinded by spotlights from the ground below.

Elisa came running in, a look of concern on her face. "Broadway, you 

guys have to go, now! Matt says they're gonna rush the building!"

The heavy-set gargoyle nodded and made his way outside to the others, 

as Mark headed back into the main chamber. "Will he live?" Mark asked, 

indicating Jason.

"Yes," Elisa replied, looking down at the man who, had things been 

different, could have had a very special place in her heart.

"I see," Mark said. "Well, then, there's little enough time to finish it, 

then." Mark hefted his mace, raising it high.

Jason was barely conscious, but Robyn saw what was about to happen, 

and steeled herself for a death blow. Elisa interceded between the siblings and 

the murderous immortal. "Mark, what are you doing?"

"I made the mistake of letting this cursed family live once before, and 

look at what that 'act of mercy' has cost me, my wife, my alliance with Goliath, 

Angela, and very nearly you as well! No, I won't make that mistake again. The 

Hunt ends tonight!"

"And when does it stop?" she said angrily. "With them? With Jon? 

With the crowd outside? Mark, the fight is over. Jason won't be in a position 

to harm anyone ever again, and Robyn ..."

"It's over." Robyn answered, hanging her head. "I lost my father years 

ago, one brother is crippled and may die, and Jon ..." she hung her head sadly. 

"I never wanted it to end this way." she sobbed.

"If you want to kill them, then start with me." Elisa said plainly. "I don't 

think you're that kind of person, no matter what you say."

Mark lowered his mace, hooking it back on his belt and walking away. 

"You're right, Elisa. I'm not."

She sighed in relief. For a moment, she thought he would actually kill them, 

and possibly her as well. "Where are you going? I need help with him!" Elisa 

said, indicating Jason.

"No." was the cold reply. Mark turned back to face the detective. "You 

asked me to spare them, and I will, but do *not* ask me to help them. I won't 

fight these two, but I will not lift a finger to help them, ever. I only hope we 

don't all regret letting Jon escape."

He then walked over to his hover-cycle, and flew off into the night sky.

*****

Things had come full-circle. Xanatos had rescued the gargoyles, and had 

also allowed them to live at the castle that had been their home. Mark had arrived 

shortly after the gargoyles themselves, and was speaking to the industrialist.

"What have you done with the virus?" he asked.

Xanatos smiled. "You still don't trust me, do you? I had it locked away, 

where no one will ever get to it."

Mark thrust a hand into his pocket, pulling out the small vial. "Demona 

left this with me before she went to the Cathedral. I wonder what it is?"

"May I?" Xanatos asked, putting his hand out. Mark placed the vial into 

his palm. David then turned towards his assistant. "Owen, please have this analyzed 

immediately."

"Of course, Mister Xanatos." he replied, bowing slightly and taking the 

container.

*****

Mark made his way to the upper towers, where the gargoyles were waiting 

for Elisa.

"Goliath," he said. "We need to talk."

The huge lavender gargoyle nodded silently and walked forward. The two 

found a private area, and Goliath turned to him.

"What do you want?" he asked. Goliath sounded polite enough, but it 

was clear from his body language that he was still rather upset.

"I want to know why you attacked. Damn it! Demona was preparing to 

hand the virus over. You pushed her into that final action!"

Goliath scrutinized the human before him. Mark truly seemed to believe 

that Demona was trying to reform, even after all she had done to cause this disaster. 

Perhaps the Weird Sisters have been correct all along. In his own way, Mark was 

as blind to the truth as Demona herself. 

"I could not take that chance. What if you were wrong?" Goliath asked, folding

his arms across his broad chest. "I understand your feelings, but I cannot risk

Elisa, or any other human, on your opinions alone."

"It's all moot now anyway, she's gone, again." Mark looked out over the 

city. "After nearly nine centuries, I found her, only to lose her again. She was 

coming *home*, and the Hunters ruined everything!"

Goliath understood the human's motives completely. He had also wanted to

believe the best of Demona, to give her the benefit of the doubt, but time and again,

she traveled the same road of revenge and hatred. Sadly, Demona was all that Mark had,

and Goliath understood that all too well. He himself had acted on similar feelings

when Angela had been hurt, when he thought Elisa had died, but even then ...

"For what it's worth, Goliath, I'm sorry for what I said. I understand why 

you did what you did, and ..."

Goliath held up his hand, signaling Mark to stop. "No. Harsh words were 

spoken on both sides. We are what we are, both of us, and nothing can change what has

been said. But I cannot allow your blind faith in Demona to endanger my clan, Mark.

I need your word that you will tread more carefully where she is involved, for Angela's

sake, if nothing else."

Mark nodded quietly. Their alliance had been shattered, and Goliath was

politely telling him that the clan had to come before Demona.

Goliath took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Perhaps someday, Demona will come

to realize her mistakes. If Xanatos can grow, if he is able to look beyond himself, 

then perhaps there is hope for Demona yet."

Mark shook the gargoyle's hand firmly. "Thank you, Goliath." 

"Let us see how Angela is adjusting to her new home," the gargoyle offered.

The displaced warriors, human and gargoyle, made their way to the tower. As 

the other gargoyles saw them, they noted that the two seemed to be on better terms.

Elisa arrived shortly afterwards, joining in the celebration. While she 

and Goliath shared a private moment, Angela tried to comfort Mark.

"She'll come back, someday." she offered, trying to sound optimistic.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Angela. Why would she even create such 

a thing? I knew Demona was capable of murder, but genocide?"

"Not entirely accurate, actually." Owen said, walking up behind the 

pair. "If you will come with me, I have some news that may be of interest."

Not sure what to expect, Mark and Angela followed Owen into the 

castle. He led them to a large laboratory where Xanatos was waiting.

"Ah, Mark, so good to see you again." he said. "Angela, how do you 

like your new home?"

Unsure how to respond, she looked to Mark for a moment. He shrugged, 

and she smiled back at the industrialist. "It seems nice enough, thanks."

"What is it?" Mark asked, visibly annoyed. "After everything I lost 

tonight, I'm not in the mood for your games!"

Xanatos smiled again. "Than this, my friend, should be excellent 

news. Owen, is the display ready?"

"Of course." he replied. There on the table, in a sealed container, 

was a small amount of the purple substance Demona would have used to 

destroy humanity. "The environment is sealed, of course. Observe as I add 

some of the formula Demona left with Mister Flyer."

Owen used small robotic arms to open another container inside the 

small area, which held a small portion of the greenish liquid. Pouring it into 

the virus, he stood back. The mixture glowed a bright white momentarily, and 

changed color, becoming totally clear!

"What is it?" Angela asked.

"A totally harmless substance." Xanatos answered. "Demona gave you 

an antidote, Mark. Owen tells me it is as tenacious and virulent as the plague 

itself."

Mark was stunned. Demona had intended to come home. She must 

have changed her mind only after the Hunters attacked, and even then, she had 

tried to somehow make amends.

"It would seem that Mister Flyer's perceptions of Demona are not entirely 

unwarranted." Owen summarized.

*****

Those words were still echoing in Mark's head as he opened the door to 

his suite early the next morning. It had taken three hours to convince Elisa that he 

was all right. It was a lie, of course, but there was little the detective could do. 

Goliath and Elisa had finally admitted that they loved one another, and maybe that was 

enough.

Maybe humans and gargoyles could live in peace, he thought. A 

small slip of paper tucked under a lamp caught his eye. Picking it up, he 

looked it over.

In blue ink, two words were written. The script was smeared in places, 

stained by tears. It read:

'I'M SORRY'

Mark folded the note carefully, tears welling up in his eyes. Walking into 

his vault, he placed it in a small glass case, with all his other memories. They were

all he had now.

Weeping quietly, he sat down, surrounded by links to the past. Humans, he 

thought, always the damned humans! They had taken Demona from him again, this

time perhaps forever.

*****

End of Part II - to be continued in Part III - "Into The Abyss".


End file.
